Three Times Alan and Tron Flaunted Their Twincest
by Ad Absurdum
Summary: "For a moment he had the impression he was looking into a mirror, but the illusion vanished when he raised his hand and his 'reflection', well, didn't." Written for tronkinkmeme, Alan/Tron slash.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ Written for the LJ's tronkinkmeme prompt: "User/look-a-like program, flaunting their twincest" and revised a little since then.  
>The first part is based on a drawing by Often Aggrivated that can be found here: http(:)media(.)tumblr(.)com/tumblr_lhkhu4sz3A1qdgec3(.)jpg_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Characters not mine. No profit made._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Three Times Alan and Tron Flaunted Their Twincest (and Two Times They Didn't)<span>**

**ONE**

"So, what do you think, Tron?" Kevin Flynn stood with a proud grin, hands on his hips, surveying the landscape.

Yeah, he finally brought Tron into the new Grid.

Truthfully there wasn't that much to see yet. Just a few buildings, that were the beginnings of a city, and several diagnostic programs going about their business.

"Why is it so dark?"

"Huh?" That wasn't quite what Kevin had expected.

"It's dark." Tron glanced at Flynn with a half-accusing eye and reached for a short stick attached to his thigh. It wasn't quite as long as the lightcycle baton and for a moment Kevin was puzzled as to its use. Then Tron clicked the thing on and Kevin realised with surprise that it was a flashlight.

"Oh come on, man," he moaned. "It's not _that_ dark."

Tron didn't look convinced. He swept the flashlight beam over their surroundings and then shone it into Flynn's face.

"If you say so."

Kevin shielded his eyes. "Come on, turn that off."

Tron clipped the flashlight back to his thigh, while Kevin blinked away the afterimages. The expression on the program's face spoke volumes. And most of it was along the lines of 'Sure, whatever, Flynn'.

In fact it was the exact same expression Alan gave Kevin just yesterday when Flynn was trying to explain why he was late for their business meeting again.

Huh, that had the potential of becoming just a little bit creepy.

"Okay, man." Kevin raised his hands in a placating gesture. Then he crouched and put his fingers to the dark, polished surface of the Grid. "How about now?"

The luminance levels went up a fraction as the lines of the Grid glowed just a little brighter.

Tron's mouth quirked in a smile. "Much better, thank you."

"Yeah, just don't say I never do anything for you." Kevin stood up and grinned at the program.

Tron frowned. "Why would I say that?" he asked, honestly confused.

"Ah, never mind." Flynn took his lighcycle baton. "Ready to visit the City?"

"Of course, Flynn."

_**Several hours later, in the real world...**_

Alan stood at the front door of Flynn's Arcade, watching the crowd of teenagers leave the place. It was closing time, but fortunately the no-nonsense-looking girl in charge of the Arcade for tonight recognised him before Alan had to whip out his Encom badge to prove he worked with Flynn and actually had a valid reason to be here at this hour.

Alan doubted he'd have much success anyway, even if he did wave his Encom credentials, along with a ten-dollar-note in her face.

"Hello, Mr Bradley. If you're looking for Mr Flynn, he's not in. I'm sorry, but I don't really know when he'll be back and I need to close for tonight so maybe you could come back tomorrow?"

"That's all right. I can wait for him and close the Arcade myself." Alan tried to project his trustworthiness because, damn, he didn't come here all the way just to have the door closed in his face.

"Really?"

Alan nodded. The girl looked at him sceptically, but apparently came to the conclusion he could be trusted with the keys.

"Uh, thank you." She flipped back her long hair and handed Alan the keys. "You'll tell Mr Flynn it was your idea, though? I don't want him to think I'm slacking off." The girl threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"Sure." Alan nodded again. He liked her responsibility. It gave him certain hope for the younger generation - a hope that was severely tested each time he saw all those kids hanging around the Arcade and spending hours playing video games.

"Okay. Bye then."

She stepped out onto the pavement, and Alan went inside the Arcade, locking the door behind him.

He looked around. The Arcade was actually a pretty big place when it wasn't crowded and when he didn't have to squeeze through the mass of people to get anywhere further than ten feet from the door.

Flynn's room above the Arcade floor was dark, but Alan called anyway. "Kevin, are you there?"

Nobody responded so Alan resigned himself to waiting. He wandered slowly in the general direction of the upstairs flat, thinking of the undeniable comforts of Flynn's couch - if he had to wait, he might as well get comfortable - when he spotted one of the machines.

It was the TRON game. Alan was vaguely aware that Kevin gave one of his games the name of Alan's security program, but he could never quite understand what a firewall had to do with throwing frisbees.

He stopped and looked around. He knew there was no one here, but he still felt the silly need to make sure. Silly because it wasn't as if he was about to do something illegal or even particularly embarrassing. He just wanted to see...

Alan took a quarter out of his pocket and pushed it into the slot of the machine. He could hear the coin clattering inside, suspiciously long, and after a moment it dropped out of the machine and rolled onto the floor, stopping by his shoe.

Alan frowned. It wasn't like Flynn to leave one of his games in such a state of disrepair. He bent down to pick up the coin and at that moment he noticed the marks beside where it lay: worn grooves that could only be made by something being dragged repeatedly back and forth over the floor. The most probable something being the TRON game itself.

Alan glanced around again. Still nobody there.

Well, what could it hurt?

He pulled and the machine swung outwards, revealing a door.

"Kevin Flynn, what on Earth are you doing there?" Alan murmured to himself and went in.

There was a flight of stairs leading to the basement level of the building, but there was also a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, so Alan at least didn't have to worry about falling down in the dark and breaking his neck. That was always a plus.

"Flynn, you there?"

Alan still didn't hear anything, but as he reached the bottom of the stairs there was - surprise, surprise - another door. Well, he got this far, it would be a total waste of his time to stop now.

Alan turned the handle. "Flynn?"

Kevin turned towards the sound of the door of his little 'office' opening.

"Alan?" Kevin blinked.

"Finally." Alan stepped inside the room. "Why are you-" He stopped abruptly as his eyes found the huge machinery stationed behind the chair Flynn was currently occupying.

"Is this Lora's laser?"

To say that Alan didn't expect that would be a major understatement.

"Uh yeah, but listen, man..." Kevin trailed off as he was fixed with Alan's calculating look.

"Would you care to tell me what exactly you are doing with that laser?" Alan came closer to where Kevin was sitting. "And-" he stopped again as he looked over Kevin's shoulder, "-with Dillinger's desk?" he finished in disbelief.

Kevin ran a hand through his hair.

"It's not Dillinger's desk."

There was a sceptical 'Mhm' to his side and Flynn rolled his eyes.

"I took the spare laser from the other bay for my project."

He stood up and went to close the door. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did anybody upstairs see you come here?"

"No." Alan was still staring at the desk's surface, reading the output it displayed. He dropped the keys onto Kevin's hand when the man came to stand next to him again. "I closed the Arcade."

"Oh. Thanks." Kevin took the keys, puzzlement written all over his face, and looked at them for a moment as if he didn't know what to do with them. Finally he put the keys in his pocket and then he reached to turn off the display on the desk, breaking Alan's mesmerised state.

"Now, what can I do for you?" Kevin propped himself up against the back of his chair. "It must be something important, right? Did something happen?"

Alan grimaced slightly, realising that what he had to say was - looking at it now - spectacularly unimportant.

"No." He took off his glasses and rubbed one eye. "I brought you the updated copy of Tron."

Alan put on his glasses again and glanced at his friend, only to be met with Flynn's uncomprehending stare. He frowned.

"You asked me today about moving it to the new system, but then you disappeared somewhere and I didn't have the chance to give you the upgraded copy." Alan took the floppy disk from the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it on the desk.

"Is _this_ the new system?"

"Uh, yeah."

Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. Flynn still stared at him, looking as if he was on the verge of zoning out or plotting something. Alan found he did not care much for either and cast a slightly unsure glance around the basement.

"Why is it so dark?"

"Huh?" Kevin blinked.

"It's dark," Alan repeated and reached into his pocket, producing a... flashlight.

Kevin gaped.

"I-it's not _that_ dark," he stuttered just a little, the words falling from his lips almost automatically.

He managed to see that Alan threw him an entirely unconvinced look before the man shone the flashlight straight into Kevin's eyes.

"If you say so."

For a second Kevin only stood there, immobile, with a stunned expression on his face. Then he let out a breathy laugh. "Come on, turn that off."

When Alan did, Kevin was blinking the afterimages and still grinning like a loon. Alan had exactly one second to wonder if he should perhaps start getting nervous now, before Flynn was all over him, arm around his shoulders, clapping Alan's back enthusiastically.

"Alan, man, I just had a great idea. Let me tell you a story about a whole new world."


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

If Kevin had had any idea how entertaining the whole thing would be, he would have brought himself some popcorn.

Alan's initial shock at seeing the Grid was normal, understandable and rather unremarkable event, save for a swear word Kevin had never heard before. He was forced to admit the man was quite inventive in that area.

Bradley's reaction to Sirens and their methods of outfitting him for the Grid was a little more entertaining. He looked ready to bolt and only Kevin's quiet sniggering (which, okay, he supposed he shouldn't be indulging in, but it _was_ funny) made Alan focus on something different than being stripped to his birthday suit and then covered with skin-tight... something.

Kevin didn't pay much attention to the death glares Alan was sending his way because he was fairly sure in a couple of minutes the man would forget all else except for his program.

He was absolutely right.

After the identical expressions of shock on Alan's and Tron's faces faded a little - and it no longer looked as if Tron was in danger of fainting and Alan of a heart attack - Kevin allowed himself a chuckle or two. All right, he guffawed, slapping his knee and in the process earned himself two identical frowns. Which set off his laughing fit anew.

He was promptly ignored, and just as soon as the user and his program looked at each other again, he was also completely forgotten.

At first Alan only stared at Tron, trying to marry in his mind the lines of code on his computer screen with the person standing before him. Who looked like his twin brother, down to the weird armour/suit the Sirens stuck Alan in. For a moment he had the impression he was looking into a mirror, but the illusion vanished when he raised his hand and his 'reflection', well, didn't.

Alan reached out to trace four small squares glowing blue at the base of Tron's throat. They glowed brighter at his touch and Alan pulled back just as Tron lifted his own hand to either bat Alan's touch away or catch his fingers from moving too far away. Alan wasn't sure which one it was.

"Sorry," he said, just in case. "I didn't mean to... uh..."

He had no idea what to say. Did that hurt? It didn't look like it did, but maybe touching the design wasn't exactly pleasant.

"Do I have that too?" Alan asked at the same time Tron said: "It's okay."

"Oh."

Alan tried to see for himself if he had something similar on his own suit - given that his and Tron's outfits looked exactly the same, it was quite possible - but the pattern, if there was one, was apparently too high up his chest.

Alan reached for his own collar, sliding his fingers lower, until he thought he must be touching roughly the same place where his own emblem should be. Tron's hand followed and he guided Alan's fingers to trace over... one square at the top and... two squares... set not right next to each other but farther apart, at the bottom.

Tron's hand lingered as he rubbed over the small circuits on his user's uniform and Alan sighed. He felt a pleasant tingle spread from the point of Tron's touch - where Alan's collarbones met - down to his chest, along his arms and to his fingertips. It was like a wave, lighting up Alan's circuits as it went, and leaving his skin warm and sensitised to Tron's caresses. Alan shivered slightly: Tron was still touching him and the longer they stayed in contact the more Alan liked it. Oh yeah, it definitely _wasn't_ unpleasant.

He brought his hand up to stroke the squares on Tron's armour again, and was breifly distracted by the lines marking three fingers on his own gloves, pulsing brighter blue.

Incredible. Alan watched fascinated as with his touch Tron's circuitry became brighter too, and he bit his lip as Tron's own explorations drew an involuntary sound of pleasure from his throat.

Alan curled his hand against Tron's chest and the circuits on the back of his fingers connceted to the circuits of Tron's suit. Both, the program and the user, started slightly at the electric spark that seemed to jump between them and suddenly there was this... link.

Alan saw his surprise mirrored on Tron's face, the details of his expression exactly the same, as they both realised that somehow their energies were intermingling and synchronising. Tron's lips parted slightly and his eyelids grew heavier as his code was suffused with absolute contentment. Alan fixed his gaze on those lips, unconsciously licking his own, feeling the streams of data from both of them meet and weave together. The sensual pleasure of it all was shocking.

"Hey, you two need a room or something?"

Flynn's voice brought reality crashing back. Alan inhaled sharply a lungful of air while Tron blinked rapidly as if he'd just woken up.

Kevin sent a silent thanks to whatever deity was listening because he didn't think he could bear the sight in front of him much longer. Fuck, who would've thought Bradley times two - albeit in skin-tight almost leather - would suddenly become to his brain the equivalent of _Swedish Twins Doing France_.

Kevin nearly choked at that thought, drawing (haha) twin concerned gazes to himself. There was no escaping the fact, though. And, Hell, what did it say about him?

He exhaled noisily. Well, maybe it just said that Kevin Flynn had a healthy appreciation for life.

Yeah, that was it. Okay.

"Flynn, are you all right?" That was Tron. Kevin realised with dismay that the only way he could tell was the T-shaped emblem on Tron's armour.

There was a snigger from the other side. "You're drooling."

Oh yeah, and Alan _really_ didn't treat him like he was the closest thing to a God he'd ever see. Which was just as well.

"Am not!" Kevin surreptitiously wiped his mouth, just in case.

"Now," he crossed his arms, trying to look like he meant serious business, "if you two are done with each other, maybe we'll get started on some work?"

Damn, Kevin thought. They stood side by side, but still so close they were touching. His eyes were drawn to Alan's right hand where it rested casually by his thigh, the circuits on the back of his fingers in direct and constant contact with the circuits on the back of Tron's left hand.

The pair noticed the direction of Flynn's stare and they both looked down.

Alan had to smile - he didn't even notice the connection was still there although yeah, now that he thought about it he could still feel the tiny sparks of warmth and pleasure. He glanced up, catching Tron's similarly amused expression. Then they looked back at Flynn, flashing him identical toothy grins.

Yep, Kevin Flynn was screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

Alan arched his spine, stretching from his hunched position. Yes, coding was fun - especially inside the Grid - but it wasn't exactly kind to his back.

Or maybe it was just that he was getting older. Just a few years ago he'd been able to sit for hours on end, not moving a muscle (well, except the ones used for typing) and feeling no pain, and now, in his ripe old age of thirty three, Alan felt all sorts of twinges and aches and oof... he sighed with relief as he felt his spine realign, bones popping into place.

"Are you okay, Alan_1?"

"Yeah, just a bit tired." Alan rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Oh." He jumped a little as he felt another hand join his. "That's nice."

Alan sprawled in his chair, relaxed as Tron began massaging his shoulders.

He and Flynn had been working on the City for a while now, coding buildings, adding new programs, with Tron occasionally offering his input, but maybe it was time to take a break.

Alan let his head fall back and looking up he was met with Tron's concerned gaze. Upside down because the program was still standing behind his user, gently kneading his shoulders, fingers brushing the circuitry where the armour's collar covered Alan's neck.

Alan made a soft sound in his throat and Tron smiled.

"I was thinking of heading towards-"

"The Sea of Simulation, yeah," Alan finished, returning the grin. Sometimes he just seemed to instinctively know what Tron was thinking, just as Tron would sometimes finish Alan's sentences.

Flynn still tittered like a schoolgirl when that happened.

Oh yeah, Kevin.

The pair turned their heads to look at the man in question, only to find him staring into space, the 3D model of the Grid's schematics in front of him apparently forgotten.

"Flynn?" they both spoke at the same time, snapping Kevin out of his daydream.

"Huh?" Kevin's eyes refocussed as he finally noticed the mild amusement from Alan and a raised eyebrow from Tron. "What?"

"We're going to the beach." Alan still couldn't say it with a completely straight face, the very concept of a beach inside a computer surreal beyond words.

Flynn waved his hand. "Yeah, fine. Just don't forget the portal's closing in a couple of hours."

"Of course not." Tron looked mildly offended at the mere suggestion that he could fail to bring his user to any location not only safely but exactly on time.

"Mhm," Flynn grunted distractedly, already back in schematics.

When Alan left - Tron in tow and Kevin could swore the program was furtively checking out his user's ass - Kevin thumped his head against the desk. Daaaaamn, caught staring again. He should write his own program, just so he could have a doppelganger too.

Kevin looked up. That was... actually not a bad idea. The system needed an administrator anyway, since neither he nor Alan could be here all the time. Yeah, not bad idea at all.

xx xx xx

"This is an amazing place." Alan sat down a few feet from the waterfront and leant against an outcrop of land behind his back.

Tron sat next to him.

"It's almost like being on a normal beach at night," Alan continued. "Except for the sand, of course."

"Sand?" Tron looked curiously at his user.

"Yeah." Alan ran his hand over the smooth dark rock-like slates that made up the Sea's shore line. They didn't resemble anything back in the real world, but it occurred to Alan he could probably change that.

"Let me see if I can show you what I mean." Alan glanced at his program, meeting Tron's fascinated, eager look.

He pressed his hand to the Grid's surface and concentrated.

He saw the vast expanse of the Sea and the rough coding along the shore's edges. There wasn't even that much to do. He just had to change a few variables and add some new lines to the code and suddenly the Sea was lapping against sand. Oddly reflectionless and so dark it appeared to be almost black, but the water was making it shimmer faintly blue as he waves retreated.

Tron's eyes were wide with wonder as he scooped up a handful of the sand and let it trickle through his fingers.

"Almost like home." Alan smiled beside him. "What do you think?"

"It's... extraordinary. I've never seen anything like this." Tron turned an awed gaze at his user. "Thank you, Alan_1."

"Ah, don't mention it." Alan watched fondly as Tron dug his fingers into the sand, evidently enjoying the unusual sensation. He almost snorted with laughter at the look the program was giving the new addition to the Grid's code. The absolute wonder painted so clearly across Tron's face _was_ funny, but it was also absolutely endearing. Perhaps the thought should have given Alan pause, but it really didn't because despite the inevitable mirror metaphor and lurking narcissism, he doubted he ever wore that particular expression.

Tron raised his head and looked somewhere over Alan's shoulder. Alan turned as well and saw a woman heading towards them, and when she came closer, he recognised in her one of the Sirens.

"Greetings, Gem." Tron stood up and took a step forward so that he was between his user and the newcomer.

"Hello, Tron." Gem was looking with curiosity at the slightly glowing sandy seashore, her perfectly shaped lips pursed in thought. She was about to say something, but as she looked back at Tron, her eyes slid over to Alan standing close behind his program.

"Your User." She smiled and Alan hoped it wasn't because she remembered their little stripping session back on his first visit.

Oh, who was he kidding? She probably did. In Alan's opinion, if anybody asked, Flynn had programmed the Sirens to preform their functions with entirely too much glee.

"Greetings, Alan_1." Gem flashed him a seductive look from under her eyelashes. Or maybe it was her normal look - it was hard to tell.

"Hello, Gem."

Alan noticed she kept shifting her eyes from him to Tron and back again. There was something about that look that was vaguely familiar.

He frowned slightly and cocked his head to one side, noticing from the corner of his eye that Tron did the same.

Gem's eyes widened. Alan blinked. Gem bit her lip.

No, it couldn't be, could it?

Clearly, some experimentation was in order.

Alan moved closer to Tron, so that his chest was pressed against the program's back, and put his arms around Tron's waist. Tron immediately relaxed into the embrace, his circuits glowing brighter.

Alan squinted at Gem's circuitry. Yep, there was definitely a tinge of pink, although quickly suppressed.

"Are you on your way to the End of Line?" Tron asked, covering his user's hands with his own.

"End of Line?" Alan asked, resting his chin on Tron's shoulder.

"Zuse's club." Tron turned his head a fraction, his lips a millimetre from Alan's cheek. Alan could almost feel them brushing his skin and his hold on the program tightened.

By that time Gem's eyes were huge and there was definitely a flush on her pale cheeks.

"Y-yes," she finally said, composing herself with some effort. "I'll be going, then. Zuse is probably waiting."

She glanced at the pair once more and hurried towards the road leading away from the Sea and towards the City.

There was a pause and then Tron said, "You did see that, right?"

"Mhm." Alan still kept his arms around the program. Tron didn't seem to mind in the least.

"Is this normal?" Alan asked.

"I... don't know." Tron realised he had no data to which compare Gem's reaction. Except for Flynn's reaction. Hmm, he was beginning to see a pattern.

"Does the... attention bother you?" he tentatively asked, stroking the circuits on his user's fingers, and content to stay like this for the next cycle or five.

Alan grinned. "Not really."

Then he nuzzled a place behind Tron's ear. The one that always made Alan giggle.

Tron giggled.

"Ticklish?"

"Yes."

"Good."

It looked like they could have _a lot_ of fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Alan had some reservations about going to the End of Line. He'd never been the partying kind, but at the same time he was intensely curious about the place.

A club. For programs. Who would've thought?

There really was no choice.

Alan gazed at the view in awe as he and Tron took the elevator to the top of the building housing the End of Line. The Grid looked magnificent from these dizzy heights - the precise sharp lines, the colours, and higher up the strange sky, permanently covered with clouds. Had it ever rained here?

When they finally reached the top of the tower and entered the club, Alan looked around curiously. He supposed it looked just like any other club back in his own world, only more... glowy. Tron led him past the area where programs lounged on low sofas and sipped drinks glimmering with unnatural colours, and past the darkened dance floor that made the bright circuitry of the programs, swaying to the music coming from the sound system, stand out even more than usual.

They stopped by the bar. Tron nodded his greeting to the program standing behind the counter.

"The usual times two, Shaddox," he said with a small smile.

The barman - Shaddox - took a good look at Alan and a corner of his mouth twitched in a smile of his own. He looked questioningly at the security program.

"This is my User. Alan_1."

Flynn's frequent visits to the Grid lessened somewhat the impact the news about a User in the system would normally have, but Shaddox's respect was still evident.

"Greetings, Alan_1."

Alan smiled, inclining his head, and took the proffered glass that contained some brightly coloured liquid. He gave it a dubious look and then glanced at Tron.

"Distilled energy," the program explained. "Try it."

Alan took a tentative sip. He expected the tang of alcohol, but to his surprise, it wasn't there and instead the drink had a pleasant refreshing taste. It also tingled slightly in Alan's mouth, almost like fizzy water or champagne. He took another sip, feeling the energy spread through him.

"Nice," he sighed.

He was about to turn around to take a look at the rest of the club, when he felt a hand descend on his shoulder and a voice tickling his ear.

"Well well well, isn't this a lovely surprise?"

Alan blinked at the program that immediately seated himself between him and Tron. Which was a little overfamiliar for Alan's taste. He moved slightly away so that the program had more room and didn't have to be pressed against him so tightly. It didn't make the slightest difference.

"Hello, Zuse." There was definite amusement in Tron's voice.

Ah, so _this_ was Zuse. Somehow Alan didn't quite expect all this... eccentricity. And a British accent to boot. He wondered briefly if the program was perhaps Gem's brother (or whatever the equivalent was called when it came down to programs). Zuse's outfit, the white of his hair and his pale, porcelain complexion made him look similarly enough, but then Alan remembered the Sirens were written by Flynn. Somehow he doubted that was the case with Zuse. He seemed to be something entirely different.

"Dear me," Zuse meanwhile glanced over at Tron, "I _have_ heard the rumours, but seeing really _is_ believing. The fearless protector of the Grid with his precious User."

Zuse's gaze drifted back to Alan and the program stared at the user as if he was about to swallow him with his eyes.

Alan tried to resist the urge to squirm, especially as he finally noticed Zuse's hand had glided down from his shoulder to rest snugly in the crook of Alan's elbow - the touch sly and rather intimate. Alan darted a glance at Tron and caught him frowning slightly at Zuse and his greedy stare.

He took a sip of his drink. Then he cleared his throat. "Well..."

"Oh, and he speaks too." Zuse's grin was nearly blinding up close.

Alan instinctively jerked back, when he suddenly found himself nose to nose with the program.

Tron sighed.

"Zuse, don't you have somewhere else to be?" he asked, his tone suggesting Zuse had indeed better _have_ somewhere else to be.

"Relax, pretty." Zuse patted Tron's hand and directed his grin at him.

The endearment caused Alan's raised eyebrow to nearly disappear into his hairline.

"I'm just being a good host, making sure my guests enjoy themselves. Another drink?" The program's eyes danced with mirth.

Alan finally decided to speak up and say more than one word this time.

"Thanks, but we're all right." He slid closer to Tron as Zuse stepped back from the bar.

"Mhm, I'm sure you are." Zuse looked at the pair speculatively, smirking a little. "Nevertheless, allow me this small indulgence. Shaddox," Zuse addressed the barman, "be so kind and pour our guests another round. Only the best." He winked.

With the words "Have fun, my dears." Zuse disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

"That was... odd," Alan said after a pause during which he and Tron were served their drinks. These ones had a tint of green and there was a small umbrella in each glass.

Tron nodded. "Zuse is unique."

Alan couldn't help but think that whoever wrote Zuse was pretty hard to miss himself. And probably didn't work for Encom. He was reasonably sure he would've remembered meeting someone who was a cross between Ziggy Stardust and Frank-N-Furter. Alan shook his head to get rid of the image.

He finished his drink and frowned at the umbrella in the one Zuse ordered for them. Ah, what the hell; he took a sip and half-turned so that he could watch the dance floor.

The sight wasn't much different from what could be seen in a normal club on any Friday night. Not that Alan had any great experience with weekend clubbing, but programs looked enough like people and they were having fun and Alan was pretty sure that back in the real world things would look more or less the same.

The music filling the club was some modern electronic thing. Alan supposed it only made sense. He unconsciously bobbed his head to the rhythm, feeling the bass notes thrum gently in his bones. Even though the music wasn't especially loud, it seemed to permeate the very air.

Or maybe it was the drink talking. Alan glanced suspiciously at his glass, wondering just how much alcohol was in it. Didn't taste like he could get a hangover from it, but that didn't mean anything. Eventually, though, he shrugged and deciding to live a little, took another swallow.

"Do you want to dance?"

Alan nearly sprayed his drink out through his nose, hearing Tron's question.

"What?" he managed between coughs.

Tron looked at him worried. "I asked if you wanted to dance."

He moved closer and pounded Alan on the back helpfully. "Are you all right?"

"Sure, fine," Alan rasped, catching Tron's arm and bringing it to his side. Any more of Tron's help and he was sure he was gonna have his lungs pounded right out of him.

"Isn't it something Users do as well? Dancing, I mean." Tron still had that worried look, now tinged with fear that despite the rapport they shared, he somehow managed to offend his user after all.

"No, we do dance." Alan grimaced slightly, seeing Tron's face brighten up at his words.

"It's just that men don't dance with other men." Alan looked pointedly at his program, but all he got in return was a puzzled frown.

"Why not?"

Alan coughed once, glanced to the side and decided he didn't feel like explaining social taboos today. "I have no idea."

He cleared his throat and took a gulp of his drink. Then he sneaked a look at the dance floor. Maybe it was the music - the melody winding around him and persuasive - maybe there _was_ alcohol in his drink, but Alan realised dancing, even with his obviously male program, wasn't perhaps such a bad idea. He could certainly try.

Tron was still trying to decode the whole not-dancing-with-men issue, when Alan decided to stop overthinking this so much and just 'go with the flow'. He had definitely been spending too much time around Flynn.

"I'd like to dance, though."

"Really?" Tron grinned and at Alan's answering nod, didn't waste more time, grabbing Alan's hand instead. "Come on then."

Once on the dance floor, Tron released his user and began to gently sway to the pulsating rhythm. Alan would have never suspected himself of such grace, but looking at his program moving so sensuously, he thought that maybe he himself didn't look like a total dork while dancing after all.

Nah, he probably did. Tron was athletic, sinfully agile and fought like a dream - unlike Alan himself - but, ah, who cared anyway? Alan let the music take over, still glancing at his program from time to time.

The dance floor was pretty crowded. The programs brushed against Alan and each time someone touched his circuits, accidentally or not, he felt an electric spark. The sensation was stronger when it was his own program touching him, but still, it was sort of nice.

Tron half-turned away from Alan to speak to a female program dancing at his side, and Alan's eyes fell to the two small circles of light low on Tron's back. They stood out - bright blue on the black of the program's armour - and Alan suddenly wanted to touch them. He reached out and traced one circle with his fingertips. It glowed brighter and Alan pressed his hand flat against it, completely covering the node. It pulsed warmly under his palm and he moved even closer to Tron, drawn by the twinkling blue of the other circle. Before he could touch it, though, his wrist was caught in a firm grip and the little warm circuit was gone from under his other hand as Tron faced him again.

"I don't think it's a good idea to do it here, Alan_1."

They stood still now, only centimetres apart and Tron looked like he was smirking. Subtly, but it was there.

"No?" A note of challenge crept into Alan's voice. "Why not?"

Tron moved his hand - the one currently not busy with holding Alan's wrist - down over his user's back to press and rub against one of the circles on Alan's own suit. Alan sucked in a sharp breath and arched against Tron, the momentary pulse of violet lighting up his circuitry definitely not unnoticed by his program.

"That's why." Tron was definitely smirking now.

He leant closer to Alan's ear. "But we could take it somewhere else, if you want."

Alan was unaware that his smile, meeting the playful challenge in Tron's eyes, looked downright evil.

"Lead on," he breathed into the program's ear.

Tron abruptly turned away and never releasing Alan's hand, led him towards the back of the club.

"My my, would you look at that." Sitting on one of the low couches and watching the pair depart for one of the club's private rooms, Zuse fanned himself theatrically. "I bet there will be some _lovely_ interfacing going on tonight."

Sitting right next to Zuse, Gem only nodded distractedly, still staring in the direction of the dance floor, the light pink flush of her circuitry slowly dissipating.

Zuse stroked his cane, glancing at her, and grinned to himself. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some... private matters to attend to. Would you care to join me?"


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

Alan let Tron drag him into one of the rooms that were there, apparently, for the occasions when circuit-touching was about to turn, er, a lot more intimate. Alan had to admit the perspective was pretty exciting. After thousands of teasing touches he and Tron exchanged, when even an accidental brush of thier circuits made them both feel all nice and warm, they were finally going to explore that connection further.

Alan couldn't think of a reason why they didn't try it sooner.

When the door closed behind them, the room lit up in muted hues of blue, white and red. Alan spotted a wide armchair, or something that looked very much like it, in the corner and at the same time Tron moved towards it, tugging Alan's hand.

Alan flopped into the armchair, dragging his program down with him. Tron straddled Alan's thighs and leant closer, one hand on the backrest beside Alan's head and the other sliding down to his hip to touch the dots of circuitry on the front of Alan's armour.

Alan hissed in pleasure.

"What would you like to do?" Tron asked, his lips a breath away from Alan's own.

Alan watched Tron's eyes closing in bliss as he stroked the circular nodes - both this time - on Tron's lower back. The program's circuitry flashed violet.

"Whatever you want." Alan smiled, seeing Tron's reaction.

The program bent further and nuzzled Alan's neck. "My User," he whispered, his lips delicately tickling Alan's skin.

Alan tilted Tron's chin, his fingers straying to linger against the program's mouth. So like his own, and yet, not quite. What if he just moved closer and...

Tron's lips were soft, and Alan's were gentle as they exchanged little, dry, close-mouthed kisses. In time they grew bolder and Alan playfully licked Tron's upper lip until the program closed his mouth around his user's tongue, sucking it, suddenly greedy for the taste.

Alan groaned, tightening his grip on the program. The kiss, combined with how Tron kept touching Alan's circuits made Alan arch and rub himself against his program, the small bursts of electricity spreading from the points of contact, making him shiver with pleasure.

Alan finally broke the kiss. He was panting and as he stared at Tron's wet and reddened mouth, he couldn't resist giving it one last lick. Tron moaned quietly.

"I want to see you." Alan stared at his program hungrily.

Tron smiled, only a hint of shyness in his expression. He took Alan's hand and guided it to lay across the centre of his chest.

"Go on," he said, not taking his eyes from Alan's for a moment.

Alan had already figured out how to derezz his own suit. Hopefully, and with a bit of luck, it wouldn't be much more difficult if it was someone else's suit. He concentrated and the pixels of Tron's armour began to melt and fall away into nothing under his hand.

Alan's eyes widened as he saw what was underneath. The beauty and precision of the normally hidden circuitry, now saturated with a brightly violet hue (and Alan just knew his own circuits were similarly flushed) literally took his breath away.

"You're beautiful," Alan murmured, tracing the lines on Tron's chest and making them glow brighter.

He derezzed the gloves of his own armour, wanting the skin-to-skin contact, and could now _feel_ the familiar lines of code, the variables and subroutines, under his fingertips.

"I'm only your creation, Alan_1." Tron sighed, delighting in his user's touch.

"You are my best creation. Ever." Alan leant closer and kissed the design in the centre of the program's chest. The warmth of the circuits and the energy flowing through them bled into his lips and made them tingle pleasantly.

Alan closed his eyes and breathed against the program's skin, his exhalations causing little waves of intensely violet colour to flash through the nearest circuits. He moved lower, kissing his way down Tron's chest and occasionally sucking this spot or that. Like the place where Tron's left nipple would be, if the program actually had nipples, or the sharp angle of a circuit running along his ribcage.

Tron was moaning quietly, his fingers sinking into Alan's hair and his grip tightening as Alan concentrated on licking a tiny dot terminating one of the circuits on his side.

Still securely in his user's embrace, Tron leant back a little bit more as Alan moved even lower in his explorations. And as he did so, Alan finally decided to open his eyes, figuring he should face the fact that he was making out with essentially another guy, never mind his twin.

And he was surprised once again.

So, the programs weren't anatomically correct. In fact - if Tron's... configuration was anything to go by - they had no visible genitalia at all.

Alan bit his lip and looked up at Tron's face.

"How do you..." he trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question.

"Huh?" Tron's eyes were glazed over, but after a moment he finally managed to focus.

"What." He frowned. He wanted Alan_1's mouth back on his circuits and wanted it right now. Although that little massage of the nodes on his back was very nice too. He shifted closer to his user.

"Um, what would you like me to do?" Alan darted another glance at the smooth place where Tron's thighs joined: two short circuits converging into one - looking like a Y letter - which then ran down and disappeared further between the program's legs.

"Just keep touching me."

Tron took Alan's hand and placed it on the central circuit between his thighs. "Here would be a good place to start."

"Right." Alan nodded, amused, and caressed the line with his thumb.

"Yesss," Tron hissed. "Just like that."

Alan watched fascinated as the circuits down there flashed even brighter. And, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, this anatomical difference between them was actually a bit of a turn-on. He pressed his hand to the hot lines, cupping the program's groin and making Tron writhe desperately in his lap. After a moment, though, Tron gripped Alan's wrist, stopping his hand from moving further.

"Wait," he breathed out. Before he could give in to the pleasure completely, there was still one thing to do.

"I want to see you too."

Alan smiled, a slight flush on his cheeks, and Tron, encouraged, pressed his palm to his user's chest. "May I?"

"Go ahead."

The front part of the armour derezzed under Tron's hand, revealing the smooth skin of Alan's chest. Tron noted with curiosity the lack of circuits and then moved his hand up and over the small protrusion of Alan's nipple. It made Alan gasp and Tron carefully stored the reaction in his data banks for future use. Then he traced the path down his user's chest and stomach to touch what had to be the most... prominent difference between them.

Alan arched his back as Tron stroked his penis - the backs of the program's fingers caressing the sensitive flesh. The thin circuits on Tron's fingers were hot and the sensation was unusually intense, forcing a groan from behind Alan's clenched teeth.

Tron's circuitry pulsed bright with want at the sound.

"Come here, you tease," Alan panted as soon as he got himself under control and the danger of coming right on the spot receded somewhat. He pulled Tron's head down for a sloppy wet kiss, his fingers finding the central circuit between the program's legs again. He pressed his whole hand against it, determined to make his program come first. He wanted to see it, wanted to see Tron come apart under his hands, wanted to feel the lights on his skin and see the expression on Tron's face. And it probably _was_ rather narcissistic, but Alan was, frankly, past caring.

Tron rocked into Alan's touch, his circuits flaring violet and getting hotter with every stroke of Alan's fingers. His mouth was open, catching his user's breath, their tongues caressing each other and Tron was going to overload any second now. The energy build-up was becoming too great, but the thing that finally pushed him over the edge was the feeling of Alan_1's fingers venturing further and stroking the little hole of Tron's auxiliary power input.

The overload was so intense, Tron clenched his teeth accidentally biting Alan's lower lip, and Alan didn't know if it was because of the small pain or because of the brilliant burst of energy from Tron's circuits, but he was right there with his program, moaning and coming and spattering both of them with the evidence of his orgasm.

"Oh, User," Tron whined quietly into Alan's neck as his user's hands stroked the circuits that had just started to cool off.

"Shhh." Alan, still panting, trailed his fingers over the glowing lines. Tron's chest was pressed against his own and Alan enjoyed the slowly dissipating warmth and fleeting pulses of pink his touch was causing.

Finally Tron leant back a little and looked down at the mess between them with obvious interest.

Alan grimaced.

"Uh, do you have any-" he stopped short as Tron swiped his fingers through the come on his stomach and put them into his mouth to suck them clean.

Alan's dick twitched. He wouldn't get hard again so soon, but dear God, the sight of Tron licking his fingers like he couldn't get enough of Alan's taste - it was without doubt one of the hottest things he'd ever seen.

Tron scooped off some more of Alan's come and Alan noticed bemused that - like every liquid on the Grid - it glowed slightly.

Tron sucked one finger.

"Energy."

He licked his lips and sucked another finger.

"Would you like some?" There was a mischievous smile playing around the corners of the program's mouth and Alan groaned.

"You're killing me here, you know that?" He tugged Tron down for another kiss.

When they pulled apart, Tron turned and settled himself between his user's legs, leaning back against him. His suit wasn't completely derezzed - it still covered his legs from the knees down, the back of his thighs, his shoulders and back. The edge of the disc dug into Alan's chest and Alan gently disengaged it from the port and put it on a low table beside their armchair.

"That's better."

Tron made a humming sound in his throat as Alan's hands moved over his shoulders, derezzing the back of his armour, and then settled around him in a loose embrace.

"Ah, just a second." Alan unclipped his own disc as well, so he could lean back more comfortably, and put it beside Tron's.

Later he could never figure out how or why it happened. Maybe he put his disc too close, maybe he actually put it over Tron's, but suddenly there was a tiny tug, a click and a hum as the two discs aligned and lit up.

"Oops."

Alan looked apprehensively at the discs. "Are they supposed to do that?"

It looked as if the edges of the discs were melting - light dripping down from one to the other and despite all gravity rules (though who knew how they exactly applied to the Grid) being lifted and absorbed by the disc resting on the top.

Alan squinted, leaning closer, and saw the thin streams of data exchange flowing between the discs.

"This is the first time I see something like that," Tron finally confessed, watching it all with a frown from his place in Alan's arms. Then his eyes widened slightly in comprehension. "It's a merge process."

Alan froze for a moment. Did that mean he and Tron were somehow going to compile into one person? He looked at his program uncertainly, only to be met with a similar expression in Tron's eyes.

They were both startled from their staring by another clicking noise. The two discs dimmed, powering down.

Well, time to face the music and see what happened. Alan picked up the top disc and activated the interface. A holographic model of his own head appeared, suspended above its surface and he reached into it, bringing up the code - shaped like a double helix - that made up his digital form here. And then he realised that with such complex information, he'd have to sift through it for weeks if he wanted to find whether or not something changed.

At first glance everything looked normal, though, and even if it wasn't, it probably wouldn't do him any harm if he attached the disc to his back again. He was a user, so it wasn't like he could get re-programmed, right?

Alan sighed and put the disc back on the table for the time being. He looked at Tron who held his own disc and was frowning at it fiercely.

"It feels different," he finally said.

"Can I take a look?"

Without hesitation Tron placed the disc in his user's hand.

When Alan got past the initial hologram, his jaw just about dropped, while beside him Tron whispered an awed "Oh my User."

Instead of the familiar lines of the programming language, written by Alan's own hand, there was a double-helix model, complicated enough to make it almost indistinguishable from user's data. Or at least Alan's own.

After a bit of digging through it, though, Alan located the original code - it didn't look like it changed, the basic directives were the same, but Tron's capabilities as a program increased hundredfold probably. Alan wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Tron had user's abilities now.

He closed the disc and handed it to Tron. "I think you just got a massive upgrade here." He smiled at the program's astonished expression.

Tron took the disc with a slightly unsteady hand, briefly overwhelmed with the amount of trust evident in Alan_1's gesture. The disc contained Alan_1's own code, his memories, his experiences, and Alan_1 was willing to share it all with Tron. His user was giving him essentially a part of himself, the gift more precious and far more generous that Tron could, _would_, ever expect.

"Thank you, Alan_1," Tron said solemnly, his eyes bright and full of absolute wonder. "It's an honour."

He gripped the disc harder and before he clipped it to his back, he re-rezzed his suit. Maybe it was silly, but he felt that receiving Alan_1's code demanded proper attire.

The disc clicked into place and the compilation process started.

Alan arranged Tron's unresisting body more comfortably in the armchair and seated himself on the floor beside it. With that amount of new code, the program's reboot was going to take a while.

He picked his own disc and turned it in his fingers, contemplating its surface and the wisdom of attaching it to the port on his back. He had to admit, he was curious. Very curious.

He glanced at Tron who was still processing the huge amount of information added to his disc. It didn't look like it was harming him, or even changing him outwardly, so Alan figured out he - a user - was probably safe too.

He placed the disc between his shoulderblades and couldn't suppress a gasp as the synchronisation started. In a flash he saw Tron's whole life - right from the first few lines of code Alan wrote for the Encom system, up to just moments ago. The information downloaded into Alan's brain in an instant, stunning him for a second, until he became aware of warm electric current spreading from the disc. In thin tendrils it travelled down his back and legs, over his shoulders and along his ribs to the centre of his chest. Alan shivered watching wide-eyed as the front of his armour re-rezzed and the lights visible on the surface glowed intensely.

And then it was over.

Alan took a couple of deep breaths and rolled his shoulders. Something was different.

He flexed his fingers, absently watching the circuitry on the gloves of his suit. On an impulse, he derezzed one glove entirely and froze, staring at his hand in astonishment.

There were circuits on his fingers. Honest to God circuits. Thin blue lines marking each finger the way they marked Tron's.

If Alan hadn't already been sitting, he'd have surely fallen flat on his face from the shock.

He touched the circuits cautiously, feeling the energy pulse under his skin - the sensation a little odd, but one he was rapidly getting used to. Alan derezzed the rest of the sleeve and saw the circuitry went up his arm and to his shoulder. He derezzed his armour even further, looking down at his chest, his legs - all covered with circuitry.

It was just a little bit disturbing. Amazing and beautiful, but disturbing. What if the circuits went back with him to the real world? What if someone noticed? and just how he was supposed to explain the fact that he glowed like a Christmas tree now?

Alan's quiet panic attack was interrupted by a movement at his side. He looked up at his program, thankful for the opportunity to focus on something different than his newly acquired problem.

"How do you feel? Are you all right?" Alan asked, an anxious note in his voice.

Tron blinked at his user, his eyes sliding from Alan's face to his chest and lower.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said distracted. "But you..." Tron paused, staring.

"Alan, it's..." he tried again, but he simply had no words. He reached down and stroked the glowing pattern on his user's chest. The lines turned briefly brighter, flooding Alan's system with pleasant warmth.

Someone made a sound: half-whimper, half-moan and neither Tron nor Alan could honestly tell who it was. Tron first brought himself under control, though, before they both could get lost in each other again. It required nearly heroic effort and only the knowledge that the portal would be closing soon stopped him from giving Alan's circuits some proper attention. Next time.

"We should get ready. You have to leave soon." Tron re-rezzed Alan's suit with obvious regret.

Alan blinked, realising that he could keep track of time on the Grid effortlessly now. The knowledge of passing millicycles instinctual and integrated into his system on a basic level.

Alan smiled. Then he brought Tron's hand, that still lingered on his chest, up to his mouth and sucked one finger in.

"Alan_1-" The program's voice sounded strained.

Alan released the finger with a 'pop', still smiling mischievously. "I know, sorry."

"You don't look very sorry." Tron pursed his lips, trying not to grin.

Alan shrugged and gave those lips a quick kiss. "You're right."

Tron shook his head.

"Users," he muttered fondly.

When they were taking the elevator down to the Grid's ground level, Tron asked, "Do you think we should tell Flynn about the merge?"

Alan frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose out of habit. He kept forgetting that he didn't have the glasses to push up here.

"We probably should." He sighed. "I'll talk to him."

And wouldn't _that_ conversation be just splendid.

They reached the portal mere moments before Flynn's own lightcycle pulled up at the portal's base.

"Hey, man." Kevin clapped Alan on the shoulder and smiled at Tron. "Had a good time at the club?"

Alan fervently hoped his blush wasn't visible.

"Yes, Flynn. Thank you." Tron answered for both of them.

"Good, good." Kevin squinted suspiciously at the circuits on Alan's armour. He could've sworn they flashed pink for a millisecond. He shook his head - he must've imagined that.

"All right, then." Flynn smiled again. "Gotta go, so see you later, buddy." He waved his hand at the program.

"Yeah, until later, Tron." Alan stepped close and wrapped Tron in a tight hug, the program's answering embrace just as strong.

Kevin very deliberately wasn't looking their way. Nuh-huh, no, sir.

He sneaked a peek just in time to see Tron kissing Alan on the cheek.

Kevin bit his lip and closed his eyes. That doppelganger-admin idea looked better and better with every visit.

"Ready?"

Kevin felt a hand on his arm, steering him towards the portal's beam. His eyes snapped open and he stared at Bradley accusingly. It was impossible the man didn't know just how these displays looked like.

Pure and unmitigated twincest, that's what they looked like, Kevin thought, having no idea his lower lip was pushed out in a distinctive and rather unattractive pout.

Alan's face was so innocent it hurt to look at it.

Kevin gritted his teeth and stepped into the portal's beam.


	6. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Alan sighed as he felt the warm water cascading over his back. It was a long and... eventful day. He raised his head, allowing the water from the showerhead to hit him full in the face.

He had sex with a program. That looked exactly like him.

He took a step back so he could breathe normally and felt a pulse of arousal deep in his belly as the image of Tron - half-naked, his circuits blazing violet - appeared behind his closed eyelids.

Alan frowned. He was not going to jerk off in the shower like some hormonal teenager, thinking about his own security program, damn it. He opened his eyes and reached for the soap.

And then the bathroom lights went out.

"What the hell now?" he groaned.

Either the lightbulb had just died or a fuse had blown in the basement. And there was also a storm outside so lightning might have damaged an electrical line somewhere out there.

Perfect.

Well, on the upside, there was still warm water. He could at least take a shower.

Alan looked down and was startled to see the faintly glowing lines on his body. They weren't as bright as on the Grid, but they were still perfectly visible.

"Oh, God."

He hadn't noticed them earlier, even though he did check right after materialising in Flynn's basement. He'd thought they didn't translate into this world, but the basement was lit and apparently that was enough to render the circuits invisible. Now, in the dark, they shone, illuminating the water washing over them, tinging it blue and pink and violet.

Alan gasped. His gentle arousal hadn't really gone away and now, with the water pelting down and massaging almost all his circuits at once, it flared again, turning Alan's circuirty completely violet.

With a defeated groan, he gave up and took himself in hand and only a few strokes later he reached a brilliant climax, Tron's name on his lips.

Well, that was new, Alan thought when he finally stopped shaking and his breath evened out.

His circuits glowed steady blue again, but Alan started to wonder if what had just happened would happen every time he took a shower. To put it mildly, it complicated matters a bit.

And what if Lora saw his circuitry? Would she freak out? Maybe, being a scientist, not so much, but how could he explain it to her anyway?

Lights. Any lights. He needed to have the lights on at all times and everything should be all right.

Alan sighed. Well, one way or the other, his life had just turned infinitely more interesting than he could ever imagine.


End file.
